Walk A Mile
by Nona Mousy
Summary: Afterwards, you find yourself with big shoes to fill. Spoilers for SM3


**Author's Note:** I wrote this around the same time I wrote "Waking Dream". Originally I had some sort of idea to take it further so it got stuffed into my WIP writing folder and then forgotten. I uncovered it while trying to eliminate all the duplicates that have found their way into my computer the past years and realized it pretty well stood as it was.

**Walk a mile**

**

* * *

**The sun has the gal to shine on Peter's funeral.

Its an unnaturally beautiful day really, the smog of the city has blown out and the sky is so blue it hurts to look at. There are birds singing in the cemetery, and the trees have just begun to turn, their fall colors of red and gold flashing in the warm afternoon light.

Across town there is a memorial service being held for Spiderman. Thousands of New Yorkers are there, mourning their personal hero.

The cemetery is quiet, filled only with a handful of friends of family. It doesn't seem fair, that so few people are here to remember him.

Mary Jane is beautiful in her grief, her pale skin glittering with tears and her red hair glowing in the sunlight. She is a strong woman, and seeing her there, holding up Peter's Aunt even through her own anguish its easy to tell she will live through this. Be stronger for it. Always Mary Jane has been that way, unwilling... unable maybe to let the worst of life kill her.

It is tempting to go to her, to try and offer comfort, but you've given up that right. And even if you hadn't, you are lacking in any comfort to give her.

You stand stubbornly across the grave from the two women that meant so much to Peter, refusing to flinch back from the curious stares that pass over your face. Its only a face after all, and not such an inaccurate reflection on your soul these days.

"Ashes to ashes..." The minister closes his prayer book and the first rain of earth falls onto the casket. "...dust to dust."

Vengeance has left you cold, and you understand too late that this is not what you wanted.

* * *

Peter pleads with you, begs you to forget your revenge for a moment and help him save MJ. And for a heartbeat you want to, because there's a part of you buried deep down that is still his best friend, that still loves Mary Jane and that is deathly tired of being this person you've become.

The goblin rages against it though and the mad whispers hold you where you stand.

By the time you have shaken free of your stupor and fumbled into your armor it's too late.

At full speed on the Sky Stick you arrive in time to see sand pull away bloody. There's screaming that might belong to MJ, but its hard to hear over the roaring in your own ears.

The black thing that Peter was wearing shrieks in laughter and you speed towards it without thinking, the sky stick's blades out. It hasn't realized you're there yet and you catch it by surprise, jumping off the board as it catches the monster in the stomach driving it back into a mass of poorly tethered steel supports. The sound of them crashing down around it seems to cause it pain.

There's some kid trapped inside the black parasite, but you can't bring yourself to care as you arm a handful of pumpkin bombs, summoning the board back to you with a rending of oh so human flesh. This thing has stolen something from you that you won't ever get back and there is no forgiveness left in you to give.

The sky stick carries you down slowly to where Peter's body has fallen. Large green eyes stare up at you lifelessly, accusing in death and you realize as you carry him away from the wreckage that it may not be revenge that the parasite took from you.

* * *

The city outside your window roars on with its life.

Looking down on it from the penthouse you see it with new eyes. Its _his_ city after all, and the sirens aren't noise anymore, they're cries for help, whimpers of mourning that echo all through the mass of skyscrapers. The city is in pain, wounded in a way that is hard to define.

At night you stand above it and listen to its cries. Anything not to sleep. Anything not to dream.

The Goblin is gone, appeased at last... or perhaps extinguished in the light of your new reality. Its horrible to miss it, but the penthouse is far too silent these days and you find yourself to be poor company.

There are calls from the board. Asking where you are, asking what your intentions are. You delete the messages for two weeks, before finally faxing in a resignation and offering your 51% stock interest up for auction.

After that reporters call in place of executives and you finally tire of requests for interviews and unplug all the phones.

* * *

The armor is cool on your feverish skin and the give of the board comforting under your feet. The horror of your life feels far away from up here, and the bite of the wind through your hair is almost like a caress. If you close your eyes you can almost remember what happy feels like.

A flash of red and blue lights and the shrill cry of sirens draw you away from your peace. The sound pulls at you, and without really thinking about it you're rushing ahead of the police.

Your weaponry is lethal and you force yourself to use care in unleashing it. These are only common thieves, their target a mid level jewelry story. Bullets ricochet off your body armor as you buzz them with the sky stick. Well aimed blades cut through the tires of their escape car.

Its not a matter of catching them so much as keeping them there long enough for the police to arrive this time, but you consider as you fly away that perhaps netting and some kind of taser-like device might make smart additions to your arsenal.

* * *

"You should go out tonight."

Peter is hanging upside down from the penthouse ceiling, his messy hair falling down and blocking your view of the television.

"I was planning to." You tell him, eying the desk full of grant paperwork listlessly. In some ways it's so much easier to put money into research now than it was with Oscorp, in others it's oh so tedious.

"Not patrolling." Peter corrects, flipping down to flop casually into one of the plush chairs across the desk. The paper work remains undisturbed and you think that the real Peter would never have acted so comfortable in your Father's home. "_Out_, out. Call up MJ. Go see a movie, or get front row tickets to some play that's been sold out for months."

"No thanks." Another you in another time would have loved that, especially the part about getting things you shouldn't be able to. You were always rather vain like that.

"You can't spend the rest of your life alone in this stupid penthouse, Harry." Peter argues, shooting webbing at you. You dodge, even though you know if you don't the illusion will just pass through you.

"I'm not alone. Here you are – arguing with me as always." Peter frowns at you, clearly wanting to voice the obvious point that he is not real and therefore does not constitute company, but hallucinations admitting to being hallucinations seems to be some kind of unspoken faux paux.

"Even I took days off, you know." He argues instead.

"No you didn't." You tell him, because you know Peter, and Peter doesn't know the meaning of a day off. You wonder if there is a term for a workaholic superhero.

Peter sighs in defeat.

"You try too hard."

"I have big shoes to fill." You remind him with a sad smile.

Its half past eight and you give up on the papers in favor of getting dressed. One of the arm guard blades has come loose again and the paint on the back side of the body armor is chipped in a strange sort of eight veined pattern at the center of the shoulders. You discard the former in favor of an arm shooter filled with mace, before considering the damage to the body armor.

There's an airbrush at the back of the lair and you're laying down a bit of red and blue over the scars before you really have a chance to consider it. A spider sitting on your shoulders to watch your back.

Spider man is there waiting when you walk out carrying the sky stick, crouched on the windowsill, his attention torn between you and the city as it always is. He never speaks like this, only watches you as you exit the penthouse and mount the board.

As he swings out beside you, the weight of your sins drops away and you let yourself fly.


End file.
